


To Become a Monster

by flabby_abby69



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27265390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flabby_abby69/pseuds/flabby_abby69
Summary: This is the story of how a little Fire Nation princess named Azula became what she is today.
Kudos: 6





	To Become a Monster

“You’re getting better, Zuzu!” little Azula encouraged as she dodged a burst of orange fire. Zuko, only six years old, was circling around her with a big smile on his face.

“You think so?” he asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Yea!” she giggled. “Let’s see if you can counter this!” Azula curled her chubby fingers and sent an arc of orange fire Zuko’s way. He quickly jumped over it and swiped his foot through the air. Azula had to roll under the burst of fire to avoid getting burned before she punched her fist forward. Unfortunately, she didn’t notice that Zuko had tripped and lost his balance.

“Watch out!” she shouted, but it was too late.

_ “Ah!” _ Zuko howled, crashing to the ground. “My hair!” 

“Zuzu!” Azula rushed over to him and frantically patted his dark hair. There were bright embers in it that were bound to start a fire on his head. “I’m so,  _ so _ sorry! I—”

_ “No!” _ came a booming voice. Azula whipped her head around to find her father marching out of the darkness. He must have been lurking in the hallway to the training room, watching them practice. “Do  _ not _ apologize.  _ Never _ be sorry for besting your opponent.”

Azula inched backwards. “But he’s my brother! We were just having fun—”

Ozai slapped her across the cheek, and she burst out crying. “Do not talk back to me, child! You are stronger than Zuko! Embrace it!”

“Yes, yes, Father,” she stammered, hiccupping in fear.

“And do not cry! You are a princess.” With that, Firelord Ozai turned and slammed the huge doors behind him. Everything was silent for a while as the two children stayed frozen in fear. Eventually, Zuko sat up and laid a hand on Azula’s shoulder.

“Azula, I—”

“This is all your fault!” she shouted, scrambling away from her older brother. “If you were better, then you wouldn’t get burned! And father wouldn’t get angry!”

A hurt look flashed across Zuko’s face, and tears started to well up in his golden eyes. “Azula, I’m trying my best! I want to be as good as you, but I just…  _ can’t. _ ” His tears started to overflow, and the little girl immediately felt terrible.

“Oh, Zuzu, I’m so sorry!” She ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him. Zuko smiled and helped her sit in his lap. Then they cried together, hoping their father would never return.

Little Azula, Princess of the Fire Nation, only five years old, didn’t know why her father had just done what he did. Sure, he was cold, distant, and often scary, but he had never  _ slapped _ Azula before. Maybe she had to be better. Maybe she had to be more like  _ him _ .

“But I don’t want to be like him,” she murmured.

“What?” Zuko asked, wiping away her tears. 

Azula looked up at him. “I think Father would like me better if I was like him,” she sniffled and buried her head in Zuko’s chest. “But I don’t want to be like him!” The tears started flowing again.

“I don’t want to be like him either,” Zuko whispered. He was quiet for a moment. “You know what Father  _ wouldn’t _ do?”

Azula peered skeptically at him. “What?”

Zuko grinned. “Stuff his face with pastries.”

The little princess wiped her nose and giggled. “Let’s do it!”

The two children sprinted to the royal kitchen and threw pies at each other before falling asleep, forgetting all about the incident with their father. But as time went by, it happened more and more often.

Azula would go easy on Zuko during a playful duel, and Firelord Ozai would punish both of them. He would slap Azula or scream at her before showing her how to  _ properly _ battle her brother. Then he would make  _ her _ fight Zuko, the way she was supposed to. With cruelty and violence.

She would play with her dolls outside by the lake when her father would rip the toys out of her hands and burn them to a crisp. He would tell her that there was no time to play with dolls. There was no time to have fun when she had to study maps and perfect her firebending skills.

One day, instead of hurting Azula, Firelord Ozai started harming Zuko instead. 

“Azula,” he growled. “Since you do not seem to be responding correctly to your punishments, maybe I should punish Zuko instead, seeing as you care about him so much.”

“No!” the little girl had protested, but her father did not listen. He fought her brother like a monster, setting his tunic on fire and giving Zuko a black eye. 

Both children were sobbing when it was all over. “Why?” Azula sputtered through her tears. “I don’t understand, Father! Why do you do this?”

Ozai grew very still and glared down at her. “Isn’t it obvious, Daughter? You are so powerful, yet you refuse to embrace it! You act like your fire is a  _ monster _ , when it is really a  _ weapon _ , a conqueror at your disposal! You must learn to harden your heart, Azula, or you will be just as weak as your brother.” The Firelord glowered at little Zuko, who was curled up on the floor. Then he strutted away.

“Azula… help me,” Zuko coughed. Azula got him a glass of water and sat beside him for a while before finding a nurse, silent tears trickling down her cheeks the whole time. The nurses never asked about the red hand marks on Azula’s cheeks or Zuko’s black eyes. They knew they would be exiled or worse if they questioned their Firelord.

That night, Azula’s mother came to kiss her goodnight, and the small girl burst into tears yet again.

Her beautiful mother frowned. “What is it, my sweet?”

“I… I can’t take it anymore!” Azula was rocking back and forth with her hands over her ears. 

“Take what?” the Firelady asked gently, wrapping her daughter in her arms.

“Father! Now he hurts Zuko, too! Make it stop, Mommy, please!”

Azula waited for her mother to comply or tell her that everything would be alright, but when she looked up, her mother was weeping, too. “I’m so sorry, Azula. I cannot stop your father.”

Suddenly, the little girl started to become angry.  _ Why couldn’t her mother help them? Why would  _ no one _ help them? _ She clenched her tiny fists. “You’re useless! You  _ can _ stop him, you just  _ won’t!”  _ Azula didn’t stay to see the shock and pain wash over her mother’s face. Instead, she scrambled off of her bed and ran outside.

She needed to hit something. Or set something on fire. The little girl just wanted to scream, but she knew the guards would come running if they heard her. She wanted to be alone. Maybe even alone with her turtle ducks. They always made her happy.

Azula stumbled to the pretty pond, glowing in the moonlight, and got ready to greet her turtle ducks. She searched around the water until she found their nest where they were sleeping peacefully.

“Hello, little turtle duckies!” she whispered, and they all started fluttering about. One crawled into her chubby hands, and Azula began to giggle. But then she realized something. The turtle ducks never helped her and Zuko. Sometimes they would firebend by the pond, and then their father would come to ruin everything. And the turtle ducks never saved them.

A dark feeling settled inside of Azula. “Why do you not help us?” she murmured to the soft creature in her hand. It only quacked in response. Azula narrowed her eyes. “I  _ asked _ you a  _ question _ .” The animal simply turned in a circle.  _ “Answer me!” _ the princess growled, and the turtle duck’s eyes widened before he waddled away in a flurry of feathers.

“No! Come back!” Azula wailed, but the creatures just kept running. The darkness inside of her bristled again, and she rose to her feet. “I _ told _ you to  _ come. Back. _ ” The animals froze in fear. Azula giggled in astonishment.

_ Scare them, _ someone said. It was a voice Azula had never heard before, but she did as it said anyway. The little girl barred her teeth at the turtle ducks, and they hopped up in fear before running back to their mother. Azula laughed delightedly.  _ Was  _ this _ what Father felt when he punished Zuko and I? _

She didn’t quite know what the feeling was, but she  _ liked _ it. Would she still be able to enjoy herself, though, when she was scaring Zuko instead of turtle ducks? Maybe she would just have to pretend when her father was around.

Azula smiled, her two locks of hair tickling her cheeks. When she went back inside, clouds covered the moon, and the pond was cast into darkness.

Several days later, the Fire Nation celebrated Azula’s sixth birthday, and she was to show her strength and progress by dueling Zuko in front of the whole court. The little girl had thought about telling Zuko her plan:  _ I’m only going to  _ pretend _ to enjoy hurting you. To test Father and see if it pleases him _ . But she decided that Zuko’s fear must be real for her Father to be proud. Azula would simply have to apologize to her brother afterwards.

“You may begin,” Firelord Ozai boomed, and a gong reverberated throughout the huge room made of red, gold, and Fire Nation citizens awaiting excitedly. 

“Think fast, Zuzu!” Azula shouted, grinning to hide her sadness. Then she hurled a fire ball at Zuko before he was ready, and he fell to the ground. She forced herself to laugh. “Look at you! You’re supposed to be better than me, Big Brother!”

The words tasted like vomit, but the audience must have thought otherwise. They cheered and hollered as Zuko looked up at her, shocked and confused. Azula felt tears clogging her throat.

However, instead of bawling and running to help her brother to his feet, she cackled some more and trapped him within a ring of fire.  _ Ignore your sorrow. _ “Come on, Zuko!”  _ Give in to your anger. _ “Stop pretending you don’t know how to fight!”  _ Make your father proud. _

Finally, her brother seemed to overcome his shock. “I  _ do _ know how to fight!” he growled before slamming his hands forward and forming a wall of flames. Azula easily sliced her hand through them and curled the fire around her like an obedient dragon, a slithering snake.

“Impressive,” she yawned, holding back her tears. “But you’ll have to do better than that.”

Zuko scowled. “What is  _ wrong _ with you, Azula?”

She raised one eyebrow as the crowd chanted her name, as her Father scrutinized them from his throne. “Nothing. Although, I am a bit bored.” She circled around her brother, her fiery creature following closely behind. “Maybe we should  _ spice _ things up a bit.” Fast as lighting, the fire shot in between Zuko’s legs, and his tunic caught on fire after he landed flat on his back.

_ “Ah! Ah! Ah!” _ he screamed frantically as he tried to snuff out the fire. While he was distracted, Azula forced herself to tackle him.

She landed on top of him, and he let out a loud grunt. “You lose,” the little girl snarled. Zuko peered at her in bewilderment before slowly shaking his head and closing his eyes in defeat. Azula had never felt more in pain.

“Azula is the winner!” Firelord Ozai roared, and the crowd went wild. The princess had never fought like this before, and they seemed to love it. It was revolting, yet her father was grinning from ear to ear. Smiling at  _ Azula _ . She beamed back before stumbling to her room, where she cried herself to sleep.

The next day, she avoided Zuko and her father to the best of her abilities. Azula never told Zuko her plan or why she fought him the way she did, and the little girl didn’t really know why. Maybe she was scared of what he would say. Maybe she wanted to distance herself from her brother so that hurting him would be easier.

And as time went by, it  _ did _ get easier. Fight after fight, duel after duel, she pretended less and less. It started to become something more like muscle memory, more like someone telling her what to do.  _ Attack. Hurt Zuko. Make your father proud. _

Eventually, Azula stopped crying after the battles with her brother. She stopped hesitating and feeling sorry and suffering pain in her little heart. She might have even described the duels as  _ fun _ . The little princess  _ did _ win all of them after all, and who didn’t like winning?

But what she craved and relished the most was the smile from her father, or his proud words after she fought with ruthlessness and power. It was almost like a drug. She couldn’t get enough of his affection, which wasn’t surprising, seeing as she had gone without it for six years of her life.

Now, instead of slapping her or lashing out with harsh words, Firelord Ozai would clap a hand on her shoulder or invite her on diplomatic trips with him. They studied maps, discussed the perfect forms of firebending or the different styles of fighting, and went deep into the mechanics of politics. Azula had never been happier.

Yet, there was a tiny voice, not nearly as loud as the other one in her head, telling her that she  _ shouldn’t _ be happy.  _ Couldn’t _ be truly whole. And why? Because while she was improving her relationship with the Firelord every day, she became more and more distant from her mother and her brother.

They both seemed to be afraid of her, and she was no longer able to see why. The little Fire Nation princess was not the same girl that she had been when she dueled Zuko on her sixth birthday. Her vision and judgement were now clouded when it came to love and affection and fear.

She became confused when Zuko shied away from her or refused to play hide and seek. She felt betrayed when her mother stiffened as the little girl hugged her. And she started to become very, very jealous when Ursa kissed Zuko on the cheek or went on walks with him in the royal gardens.

_ Mother used to give  _ me _ the same amount of attention as Zuko,  _ Azula would think.  _ Mother used to hold  _ my _ hand and giggle with me while she told me bedtime stories. What had changed?  _ Maybe it was because Azula was better now, and Ursa had to improve Zuko. Maybe her mother thought Azula was perfect and only gave Zuko more attention because he  _ wasn’t _ perfect.

But Azula couldn’t be sure, so she decided to ask her mother. Her eyes were closed when her mother padded into her royal chambers. For some reason, it seemed like Ursa waited until after her daughter was asleep to kiss her goodnight.

“Hello, Mother,” Azula greeted, eyes still closed. She could hear Ursa freeze. “Yes, I’m not asleep. Don’t be so surprised.” She sat up in her humongous bed covered in red silk, and her mother floated nearer. “I need to talk to you, Mother.” 

“What do you need, Azula?” Ursa looked sad. Almost empty. Azula had noticed it before, but it seemed worse lately.

The little princess took a deep breath. A year had gone by since she turned six, since she became a better daughter, princess, and warrior. Talking to her mother should be easy. “Why do you love Zuko more than me?” The words were frantic, unexpected.

Her mother simply blinked rapidly. “Pardon me?”

Azula swallowed, beginning to feel fear, worry, but then she leaned on the comfort of the voice in her head.  _ She has no right to question you. _ The girl scowled.  _ You should be angry at her for hating you. _ She clenched her fists.  _ Your mother doesn’t. Love. You. _ “You hate me!” Azula shouted, and her mother reeled back in shock. “You hate me and I know it! So why? Why do you hate me?”

Ursa’s golden eyes were wide and glassy, tears threatening to overflow. She was shaking her head back and forth. “I don’t hate you, Azula. I love you, I promise.”

“Well, do you hate  _ this?” _ Azula screamed, curling orange fire around her hand. “You think my fire is a  _ monster! _ You— you think  _ I _ am a monster! But Father said my fire is a  _ weapon!  _ And I am a leader! A  _ princess! _ How can you think I’m a monster?” The little girl didn’t know what was coming out of her mouth. This wasn’t the conversation she was supposed to be having.

Tears were now streaming down Ursa’s cheeks. “Azula, I will do whatever I can to show you that I love you. Because I love you with all my heart. I love you just as much as Zuko. I love you, I love you,  _ I love you.” _ Her mother lurched forward and pulled Azula to her. And instead of lashing out or scrambling away, the little princess hugged back.

“I… I’m sorry,” Azula hiccuped. The words used to be so easy to say, but now they were like stones in her mouth. Hard and old and useless.

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Ursa whispered into her hair. “But you have  _ changed _ , Azula. And I want to know why. It’s not that you have changed in a bad way at all. I’m simply curious.” Her mother sat up and placed her slender fingers on the girl’s shoulders.

Azula rubbed her eyes and grinned. “Well, I used to not want to be like Father, but then I realized that I  _ should _ be like Father. So instead of being weak and stupid, now I am strong and clever! Just like Father! Aren’t you proud of me?”

Her mother smiled big, even though she wanted to cry. Of course, Azula didn’t know that. “Yes, my little princess. I am very proud of you.”

Azula beamed.

“Goodnight, sweety.” The Firelady planted a soft kiss on Azula’s forehead before leaving the room. Once the door shut gently behind her, Ursa sank to the ground and sobbed.

But in the morning, she put on her queenly facade and forced herself to confront her husband.

“Ozai.” She stepped into his office with trembling hands and closed the intricate door behind her. 

“Ursa,” he mumbled. His back was turned, and he was hunched over his huge desk.

The Firelady sucked in a shaky breath. “I must bring something to your attention.”

The Firelord said nothing.

His wife gulped. “Azula is becoming a monster.”

For a couple of seconds, everything was still, and then Ozai finally turned around, his hands steepled together. “How so?”

Ursa commanded her tears to stay back. “Azula enjoys hurting her brother. She frightens the turtle ducks and laughs afterwards. She treats Mai and Ty Lee like her slaves. She accuses me of hating her. And do you know what the peculiar thing is, Ozai?” She was gaining confidence now. “Azula _ loves _ me. She  _ loves _ Zuko. She loves Mai and Ty Lee and the turtle ducks. So why does she hurt us?”

The Firlord sat there for a moment, his golden eyes piercing her own. “Azula does not enjoy harming Zuko. She enjoys winning and punishing the weak.” He stood up, his shadow stretching outward. “My daughter does not frighten the turtle ducks. She teaches them to obey their superiors.” Ozai took a step forward. “Azula does not treat her friends like slaves. She treats them like her citizens.” He was much closer now. Ursa wanted to back away, but she stood her ground. “But you were right about one thing, Wife. My little princess  _ does _ believe that you hate her. And do you want to know why?” Her husband was only inches away, his hot breath washing over her pale face. “Because you are the  _ opposite _ of me. Because Azula is  _ like  _ me. Therefore, you disagree with my morals, and the morals Azula abides by. Because you are  _ scared of your own daughter. _ ”

“No—” Ursa tried to step back, but Ozai grabbed her chin.

“Do not challenge me! And do not lie to yourself! You are  _ weak _ , Ursa, and because you cannot be strong, you will never understand my power, Azula’s power.” His fingers squeezed tighter and tighter. “You will never comprehend that what we do is  _ right _ . You will always fear us because  _ you. Are. Weak!”  _

He slapped her, and Ursa fell to the cold floor. “I don’t want you near Azula anymore. You may speak with her, touch her, but do not fill her head with lies. Do not make her weak like you. Do not make her doubt me.” The Firelord glared down at his wife. “If you disobey me, I will hurt Zuko.” Ozai glided over to the door. “And remember,” the door opened. “I have no limits.” Ursa was left alone in her husband’s quarters, more broken than ever before.

As the years went by, Ursa grew more empty, more sorrowful. Zuko became more frightened, more paranoid. And Azula’s darkness thrived.

The little princess grew more jealous, more hateful, more angry and more power hungry. The soft, sweet voice in the back of her mind grew very quiet, while the demanding, powerful voice just got louder and louder. It told her to go harder on Zuko than she needed to while fighting. It whispered in her ear,  _ “Wouldn’t it be fun to see how long it takes the fish in the pond to die once they are out of the water?” _ It convinced her to throw rocks at the badgerfrogs to get her mother’s attention.

One morning, Azula awoke to find her mother had disappeared.

“Father, where is Mother?” she asked after entering his office.

“She left.”

“Why?”

“She wanted to leave.”

“But… Why?”

“Enough!” Ozai slammed his hand on his desk and whipped his head around to glower at Azula. She flinched. Slightly. “Leave me.”

“Yes, Father,” she obeyed, and strutted away, but as she swept through the palace, the voice started whispering.  _ Why didn’t your mother say goodbye? Where did she go? Why did she leave? I bet she told Zuko goodbye… _

So Azula hurried to her brother’s chambers. “Hello, Zuzu!” she called, letting herself in.

“Hi,” he responded from his little desk. “What is it?”

The princess hesitated. “Do you know where Mother went?”

Zuko froze. “No. Do you?”

Azula shook her head.

“Well, she  _ did _ come to me last night. But all she really said was  _ I love you _ .” Zuko closed the book on his desk. “What did Mother tell you?”

Suddenly, the girl, not so little anymore, was shaking. She ran from the room.

“Azula!” Zuko called, but she ignored him.

She sprinted out into the early morning sun, except there was no sun, because it was storming. Rain pelted her skin like rocks. Lightning flashed before her eyes. Thunder boomed at her from all around.

_ Your mother doesn’t love you. _ Azula skidded to a halt by the turtle duck pond.  _ She would have said goodbye if she loved you. _ The Fire Nation princess sank to her knees.  _ Your mother has  _ never _ loved you. _ Tears started to mix with the rain on her cheeks.  _ Your mother  _ hates _ you.  _ Azula screamed, and it felt like fingers clawing at her throat, fire erupting from her insides.  _ You are a monster. _ Fire exploded from Azula’s fingers. They were flames of loss and sorrow. Anger and hatred. Power and lust. But most of all, it was almost as if there was no emotion at all. It was almost as if in that burst of fire, Azula had finally and truly hardened her heart. Because as the flames curled up into the storm, they slowly changed from orange to blue. Blue like the darkest parts of the ocean and blue like cold fingers. Blue like the lightning up above and blue like a painful, festering bruise.

Finally, Azula’s voice gave out, and her flames sputtered until they were nothing at all. 

She stayed kneeling on the wet grass in her soaking uniform—black, crisscrossed with red and gold designs. Her two locks of hair fluttered around her face, caressing her cheeks. Her golden eyes glinted in a flash of lightning. 

And then Azula smiled.

“Do you think Father will be proud of my blue fire?”

_ Yes. Yes, I do. _


End file.
